


April Fools, Dumbass

by Peasantaries



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Best Friends, Childhood Friends, Embarrassment, Foot Fetish, It just happened, Letters, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nipple Play, Pining Kageyama Tobio, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-18 12:15:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10616709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peasantaries/pseuds/Peasantaries
Summary: It starts off, as almost everything does between them, with a joke.And of course, like almost everything else between them, for Kageyama, it’s not a joke.In which clueless dorks proceed to pine, Kageyama unwittingly starts a yearly tradition, and somehow,  there's still volleyball.





	1. beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this fanfic because it's COMPLETE, and I've decided that if I post new work, I'm going to write it all beforehand instead of losing motivation/inspiration halfway through. 
> 
> I'm literally a little stunned at myself that this turned out to be over 17K and I hacked it out in two days, but it has to be the most fun I've ever had writing a fanfic, so maybe that's why.
> 
> This is my first Haikyuu, but I have many many more ideas for these two idiots.

It starts off, as almost everything does between them, with a joke.

And of course, like almost everything else between them, for Kageyama, it’s not a joke.

His hands are balled into fists, sitting tight at each side of his thigh, head bowed, and Hinata is still rambling about the thing he was rambling about this morning which is also the same thing he was rambling about yesterday, but Kageyama stopped paying attention a few hours ago, because he’s decided.

He’s saying it.

No matter what happens, no matter the outcome, he’s decided.

He’s weighed the pro’s and con’s against one another, he’s made a spreadsheet, he’s submitted several posts to several different forums – along with several updates – and Kageyama had decided to tell his childhood friend and his best friend that he’s in love with him.

Pro’s include:

No more hoping, pining, longing, or all other things that end in ing

Hinata will know, which in turn means he’ll either 1) stop touching, or 2) touch more

The latter may actually come true

Con’s include:

The former might actually come true

Everything will change

The list could become endless if Kageyama let it, if he detailed every possible situation, but the facts above remain true.

Everything will change, but change is inevitable, and Kageyama has done both a lot of research and a lot of thinking, and he knows that things staying the same is just as bad.

If nothing changes, then nothing _will_ change – these feelings won’t disappear, it won’t suddenly become easier to deal with, Hinata won’t stop playfully poking him, and Kageyama won’t stop waking every morning with an ache in his chest for someone.

Which is how he finds himself here, in this diner, as Hinata runs his mouth and gestures along to his own story.

The longer Hinata carries on, the longer the desperation to just come out and _say it_ grows, until - before Kageyama even knows it - he's bowing his head further and booming out, “Hinata, I like you!”

Hinata’s mouth stops, but his lips are still parted, and then he’s breaking into a beam. “I like you too, Kageyama!” He shouts back.

If it weren’t for the fact that Hinata is a well-known simpleton, these words might have struck joy into the darkest recesses of Kageyama’s heart.

As it stands, the person he loves is in fact a well-known simpleton, and so Kageyama knows that Hinata takes his words to mean something wholly different.

“No, _dumbass_.” Kageyama starts, and quickly backtracks, because _not the way to confess to someone_ , “I - I mean, I  _like_ you." He grits out. "I have for a while, or whatever.”

Understanding dawns bright and early on Hinata’s face, eyes going round and huge, because it’s physically impossible for Hinata to even mask the slightest of emotions, and Kageyama waits – waits for the explosion, the questions, the (heart beating, palms sweaty) reply.

But then Hinata’s face transforms from dumbstruck realisation into something bright and beaming and Kageyama swears his pulse stops for a second, until Hinata is – he’s laughing.

He throws his neck back, his tiny orange head tipped, and _laughs_. “Yama!” He shouts, and pulls something from under the table.

A water gun.

Kageyama blinks.

“I wanted to do April Fools!” He cries, petulant, but he’s still laughing. “I didn’t think you would remember!”

Kageyama continues to stare.

“You almost got me!” He points. “But I’m not falling that easy! This isn’t rock paper scissors, I’ve been doing this for _years_.”

April Fools. It’s April Fools Day.

Of course it is. The one day that Kageyama thinks the date on the calendar won’t matter, is the day he chooses to confess to someone on a national prank holiday.

Also the one day that Hinata catches him off guard, every single time, with some stupid practical joke.

Kageyama wants to speak, to explain, to say something, but now the words are out in the open air, now they’ve been spoken, his throat has closed up.

_You don’t understand. This isn’t a joke. Listen, idiot._

They’re all there, so why can’t he _say_ it?

“I’ll let you off this time, but next year I’m _soooo_ getting you back.” Hinata squirms in his seat and squeals, honestly squeals, like a two-year-old that can’t contain his excitement. Kageyama wants to scowl, but he finds his unwilling mouth ticking at Hinata’s particular brand of enthusiasm.

Hinata points at his face. “See? You totally thought you had me.”

Kageyama glances away, and finds himself nodding, unable to do anything more.

The weight that he’s carried around in his heart for the past few months has just increased, gained a few pounds, and now sits a heavy pressure on his lungs, making it more difficult to breathe than it already was.

That night, Kageyama cries himself to sleep. He isn’t proud of his actions, but he does accept them.

 

*

Kageyama met Hinata in the form of a flying red ball that came crashing into his backyard.

That small red ball wasn't the sun, nor was it a planet, but a very small human being, rolling across the grass at lightning speed and ending up in the bushes.

At first, Kageyama thinks it’s an animal, and he freezes where he’s playing with his insects, but then legs are in the air and scrambling up, and a body is propelling itself forward.

“That was awesome!” Someone cries, and jumps upright.

Kageyama stares at the boy who has just arrived in his backyard.

Until he looks down at the trail that they've blazed through his garden.

“My snails!” He shrieks, his voice coming out all high and fast as he stares at the ground, the wreckage of their home he had spent weeks building.

The boy freezes, looking at Kageyama and then the ground.

At a loss, Kageyama bursts out crying.

His mom eventually manages to calm him down, and the boy who is grass-stained and muddy is twisting his feet as he apologises, wringing his hands, but Kageyama scowls at him the whole way back to his own yard.

Kageyama buries his snails the next morning, and holds a funeral. His mother calls him a strange child, but Kageyama has his head bowed in prayer.

Only the next day, the boy is in his classroom, being introduced as ‘Hinata’ and nodding shyly behind the teacher before coming to sit across from him and smiling.

Kageyama scowls with all his eight-year-old might, and Hinata shies back, eyes falling away and shoulders dropping in dejection.

The whole day, Hinata doesn’t try to make any friends. He doesn’t talk to anyone. He just keeps pestering _Kageyama_.

“Go away.” Kageyama says, building a fort for his beetles.

“Don’t you want to do something?” Hinata is practically bouncing on his feet. “I get fifteen extra minutes because I have ABD, and I get to play with someone.”

“Don’t want to.” Kageyama replies. “And it’s _ADHD_.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Means you’re stupid.”

There’s silence, and Kageyama glances up to see Hinata staring, struck.

“Joke.” Kageyama says. “Means you’re too hyper all the time.”

Hinata bounces on his feet. “I am!” He shouts.

“Well go play with someone else.” Kageyama says, cupping his hands around a scurrying beetle.

“I want to play with you.”

Kageyama huffs and scrunches up his face hard. “Well I don’t want to play with _you_.”

Hinata is quiet. “Is it because of the snails?”

Kageyama doesn’t say anything, just runs his finger along the dirt, making swirly patterns.

“How do I make up?” Hinata asks, and Kageyama glances up to him, because nobody has ever wanted to stay talking to Kageyama this long, never mind make something up to him.

Kageyama thinks long and hard. Then he says, “pee yourself.”

Hinata’s eyes widen comically, growing to become two large saucers. “What!” He cries.

“Pee yourself.” Kageyama repeats proudly. He knows Hinata won’t do it. He’s finally found a way to be left alone.

Hinata stares before his eyes narrow, and then he’s turning around and stalking off.

Kageyama smiles nastily down at the ground, pretending that it feels like satisfaction.

Hinata won’t stop catching his eye across the classroom. Kageyama frowns, because Hinata is squirming, only it’s not his usual restless movements. His legs are squeezing together, and as Kageyama watches, he lifts his bottle of water and takes a long gulp, finishing it and nodding to Kageyama. 

Kageyama’s own eyes widen this time.

He’s going to do it.

Shock settles over Kageyama’s entire frame, and all he can do is stare, wide-eyed.

Hinata’s face scrunches up, his eyes squeezing shut, and Kageyama knows, without a shred of doubt, that he is watching this boy wet his pants.

There’s a shriek, and then the girl sitting beside Hinata’s desk is jumping up.

“He just peed himself!”

The whole class turn to look at Hinata, who then stands, chest puffed out, a dark patch staining his crotch.

Everyone is in uproar, laughing and screaming, but Kageyama just sits, dumbfounded, half-twisted in his seat as he gazes up at his new red-haired hero.

Hinata is scolded and told to go to the toilet, or at least put his hand up when he feels the need to pee, but Hinata just walks out brazenly, albeit a little awkward, moving his legs side-ways like a crab as he manoeuvres around the uncomfortable wetness.

Kageyama watches him go, and then he’s bouncing in his seat, shouting that he desperately needs to pee too, _please please let me go_ , but before the teacher can even answer he’s shot out his seat and running toward the boy’s bathrooms.

Hinata is holding something up to the hand-dryers, his pants sitting loose at his hips.

Kageyama clatters into the bathroom and pants, out of breath, before he straightens and smiles, very hard and using all his teeth.

Hinata backs away into the wall, eyes wide. “Don’t hurt me!” He shouts.

Kageyama frowns. “What? I’m _smiling_ , dumbass.”

“So _rude_ , Yama!” Hinata says, shaking his head.

“It’s Kageyama!” Kageyama stomps his foot, because this isn’t going to plan.

But then Hinata is laughing, his face crinkling all up. “This is how you do it!” He points at his face.

Kageyama glowers, and he walks forward in three short, sharp footsteps, until he’s standing right in front of Hinata.

But Hinata doesn’t look scared, not like the other boys. He still grinning wide.

Kageyama lifts a hand and pats his head, once.

Hinata’s eyes are glowing bright and shining, shining all the way up at him.

When they get back to class, Hinata is no longer the exciting new boy, but the weirdo who wet his pants, along with the weirdo who plays with insects.

But Hinata doesn’t even seem to care, content to vibrate at Kageyama’s side as they sit and listen into the class, glancing over to the open window every few minutes.

As soon as school is finished, Hinata is dragging him along by the wrist, up a hill and through the woods, and Kageyama trails along until they’re at his house. Hinata picks up a brightly coloured ball, tossing it up before catching it easily and grinning.

“This is a volleyball.” Hinata breathes, dancing on the spot. “And you’re gonna play with me!”

And that’s how Kageyama meets the second love of his life.

 

*

His mom cries the first time he brings Hinata home.

She tries to stifle it with a fist, shaking her head and looking down at him, at his mud-stained clothes and his bright expression, explaining that Hinata and him are going outside.

“Of course.” She sniffs, but keeps watching them.

Hinata gives him a look.

Kageyama shrugs and pulls Hinata along.

 

*

Every year after the year that Kageyama confessed and Hinata took it as a prank, Hinata has made it a running joke to confess to him on April Fool’s Day.

At first, Kageyama had no clue what was going on.

“I – I have something to tell you.” Hinata was using his Sombre Voice that he only uses for talking to adults, and Kageyama pauses in taking a bite of his meat bun.

“I like you.” Hinata states.

Kageyama freezes.

“Damnit!” Hinata explodes. “I was so close!” He slaps his leg, but he’s already grinning. “Did you believe it for a second? I could see it, it was just a second.”

Kageyama shoves Hinata so hard he falls sideways into the dirt.

He pops up again, exuberant. “That a yes?”

 

*

“Kageyama.” Hinata begins, wearing the exact same expression as the year before, and the year before that one. “I really think I’m –”

“It doesn’t work if you do it every year.” Kageyama states, flat-lidded and deadpan, already done with today. “There’s no strategy then, it’s just predictable.”

“As predictable as …  _this_?” Hinata whips out a water gun and skooshes him right in the face.

Kageyama tackles Hinata side-on, and they both end up rolling down the hill and getting totally soaked.

 

*

Hinata starts changing things up.

Next April Fools, he’s quiet the whole day, but there’s a tension in the air, an almost expectant silence.

As they’re walking home, Hinata sighs for the fourth time.

“What.” Kageyama states.

“I just.” He kicks up dirt along the way. “I wanted to tell you something, but I don’t think you’ll believe me.”

Kageyama’s pulse starts thudding. He already knows the date. Today is the date.

“Well maybe if you tried, dumbass.” His voice comes out harsh, covering for the slight shake in it. 

Hinata doesn’t look at him. “It’s just, I think I’m in love with you, Kageyama.”

Kageyama doesn’t mean to stop. He doesn’t mean to hold his breath, doesn't mean for his feet to slow to a halt.

The act drops in seconds.

One minute Hinata is staring forlornly at the ground, the next he’s jumping up in a spin and pointing a finger.

“ _Gotcha!”_ He cries in glee.

Kageyama tightens his mouth. "No, you didn't."

"You totally stopped!" He cries. "You should see your face right now!"

Kageyama swallows around the uncomfortable lump in his throat. He tries to formulate a witty reply, a sharp comeback that will stop Hinata in his tracks. 

"Why do you always have to confess anyway?" Is what comes out his mouth.

Hinata stops, blinking up at him. "What?"

"It's just." He clears his throat. "The element of surprise is gone now. I already know what you're gonna do, so is it really a prank?" He feels his face hot, feels the need to explain his sudden, irrational dislike of this tradition of theirs. "And plus, it's - kind of weird."

Hinata blinks, owlish. "Weird?"

"Like, to confess your best friend every year." He states.

"it's tradition!" Hinata shouts. "And you started it! Plus everyone confesses to people as a joke on April Fools, and I don't wanna be rude, but I know you'll take it as a joke."

Kageyama grits his teeth. Of course he takes it as a joke. It's just Kageyama, just silly, stupid Yama, it's just a joke.

"Right."

"Does it weird you out?" Hinata peers up at his face. "Cause I thought it was funny! You always look like you're gonna puke!" He laughs, wobbling on unsteady legs. "You fall for it every time!"

Kageyama shrugs, a quick jerk of one shoulder. "You would believe me if I told you I loved you."

"Would not." Hinata states, adamant.

"You would." Kageyama replies, fists clenching.

"Wouldn't."

Kageyama isn't sure if it's just the weather, or this particular day, or because Hinata's been pestering him for hours, but something snaps.

Something inside him just snaps, and he's reaching out, fingers stretched, and it's almost in slow-motion as he takes Hinata's wrist and drags him close.

"Hinata." Kageyama starts, voice rough with unrestrained emotion, and grips the wrist against his chest. "I love you." The words come tumbling out this time, there's no stopping them. "I've always loved you, I think about you every day, and it hurts, a lot, but I just have to live with it because I know you'll never feel the same, okay."

Hinata stares up at him, dumbstruck. "Yama -" he starts, voice hoarse.

"See." Kageyama shoves Hinata away with the hand on his wrist, and scowls. "It's easy, it's just words, but when someone says something like that, you believe it, okay?"

"I've never said anything like that." Hinata states.

Kageyama freezes.

"I never said anything like that." Hinata repeats. "Ever."

Kageyama doesn't say anything, doesn't dare speak.

He's blown it. It's over. The words that felt so freeing to say then, turn bitter and ashy in his mouth.

"Hinata -" He tries.

"It's okay." Hinata says quickly, and Kageyama frowns, because - what?

"It's okay." He says again, shaking his head. "I didn't ever say anything like that, but it's okay. I get it now. I'll stop."

Kageyama blinks. "What?"

"It's weird, it's okay." Hinata is still saying, clearly trying to end the conversation. "I thought it was funny because of your face, but when someone does it and then it's all a joke, it's not so funny anymore." He's looking off to the side, and it's the first time Kageyama has actually seen Hinata's jaw clenched.

Kageyama clears his throat, suddenly guilty. He was probably too intense. "Sorry. If that was weird." He states awkwardly.

But Hinata is swinging his head around and beaming bright. "What?" He squints. "Nah, I just didn't know."

Kageyama feels his muscles relax. "Okay." He says, and Hinata nods.

 

*

The next year, Hinata doesn't confess.

Kageyama pretends he's happy.

He pretends that he's not been looking forward to April Fool's Day for the past three years, pretends that he doesn't analyse Hinata's tone of voice every night afterward to see if something's changed, pretends he doesn't replay Hinata's expression as he says the words, or get up in the morning and know that he'll actually hear the words he's wanted to hear more than anything in his life.

Hinata puts itching powder in his practise clothes and skooshes him with the water gun outside the school gates but doesn't, not once, mention loving Kageyama.

 

*

Practise today is utterly gruelling, and not because Kageyama can't toss the ball or block a spike or is out of breath or hurts at all in any way.

It's because Hinata has on a new shirt.

It's time like these that are the worst.

Hinata's black gym clothes are plain and baggy and leave a lot to the imagination; his shorts fall down his slim hips, but because he has a t-shirt tucked into them, it makes no difference. They don't cling to his frame or reveal any patches of skin.

Until today.

Today, he's wearing a white t-shirt, that just falls short at the hips and rides up his back every time he jumps, runs, moves.

That's not the worst of it through.

Spring is only just beginning, the winter cold still lingering in the air, and through Hinata's highly visible shirt, Kageyama can see his nipples.

Perk little pink things, that brush his shirt on every leap and cause Kageyama's brain to short-circuit.

They're tiny, hard nubs, pebbled in the cold, and the sweat that drips down his spine and chest makes the fabric of his gym clothes stick to his body.

He's basically naked. He's basically practising naked.

" _Oi_ , Kageyama!" Tanaka shouts over to him, when he starts slipping up. "Where's your head at?"

 _You don't want to know_ , he thinks desperately. He doesn't even want to know.

But he's blocking this time, and it puts him directly in line with Hinata.

Sweat trickles down Hinata's nape, disappearing into his collar, but through the thin, transparent material of his shirt, Kageyama can watch it travel down his shoulder blades, where the fabric is bunched and clinging to him.

What would his sweat taste like? Does it have a taste? Sweet and maybe a little like salt, or more fresh, more distinct? Bitter, more masculine?

Where would it have a taste? In-between his shoulders, or somewhere else? His throat, just under his jaw? Maybe somewhere more private - under his armpits? The sensitive backs of his knees? Higher up, maybe, at the junction where his leg meets his crotch?

Would Hinata make noise if Kageyama touched there? Would the noises change depending on where Kageyama kissed, depending on how he used his tongue -

" _Kageya_ \- !"

Something smacks into the side of his head, and then there's blinding, white pain that rips across his ear, before everything is fuzzy and dark.

 

*

Kageyama blinks and instantly scrunches up his face, wincing as he rolls away from the light.

"He's awake!" The unmistakable and unmissable sound of Hinata's voice pierces his eardrums, and Kageyama groans, shuffling until he feels something warm and solid, and buries his face there.

"Think could be a concussion -

"Ear's bleeding, is he alright? Can he move?"

"Try and get him to sit up -"

Kageyama groans louder, and shuffles against the warmth that's pressed to his forehead. He cracks an eye open, and is met with pale skin.

Hinata.

He's pressing his face into Hinata's thigh, where he's sat on the floor holding Kageyama's head.

Something warm and happy breaks open inside Kageyama's chest, and he rubs his nose into the soft skin, feeling the downy leg hairs and the way Hinata's shorts smell of the cold air and the gym, of clean dust and the rubbery smell of volleyballs.

Kageyama abruptly realises that his mouth is in the perfect position to taste Hinata's sweat.

His lips are sitting at Hinata's knee, and all he would have to do is turn his head and brush his mouth across, peek his tongue out, it won't even get noticed -

Hinata jerks as if he's been electrocuted.

"Kageyama!" He cries. "Did you just _lick_ me?"

Kageyama groans and puts a hand over his head.

"I think he's not okay!" Hinata's shrill voice comes. "He's being weird and he's not okay!"

"Mm not bein’ weird!" Kageyama booms, and winces at the sound of his own voice.

"It's most likely a concussion." He hears Suga explaining, and then there are hands on him, lifting him up and pulling him to his feet.

Kageyama shuffles awkwardly, still scrunching his face up as pain lances across his eyelids.

"Yama, Yama-kun, look at me."

Kageyama opens his eyes with difficulty, and is met with Hinata's large, clear ones, flitting all over his face, both hands on his shoulders to steady him.

Kageyama lifts a hand and strokes Hinata's cheek. It's soft.

"He's doing it again!" Hinata cries out, instantly terrified, face ashen.

"Let's get him to the nurse." Suga starts gently, and lifts one of Kageyama's arms over his shoulders. "I'll go with you."

Hinata nods, and puts Kageyama's other arm around his little shoulder. It's bony, and thin, and Kageyama has to bend down for it to even be helpful. Kageyama laughs softly into Hinata's hair, nuzzling his scalp and breathing deep.

"So small." Kageyama murmurs. "Like a baby rabbit. What's that? A babbit?"

"Is he drunk? Why is he like this? Is it normal?" Hinata asks, turning wide eyes to Suga.

"He's just disorientated." Suga says softly at his side. "He won't be making much sense, it's better he see the nurse."

"Babbit." Kageyama laughs, before he's being set down outside the nurses office.

His head is really starting to hurt now, and the motion-sickness of flopping onto his seat has him bending over, nauseous.

"It's probably a lot more worrying because this is Kageyama, and he's never like this, but he didn't hit his head on the way down, thank goodness you were there, so it really can't be much worse than a slight concussion." Suga is murmuring, and Kageyama lifts his head to see Hinata with a thumbnail between his teeth, staring back down at him.

Kageyama holds up a hand.

Hinata blinks down at him, but Kageyama waits, shaking his offered palm, and Hinata slowly, slowly, lowers his hand from his mouth and down to Kageyama's level.

Kageyama takes Hinata's hand in his and presses it to his cheek, closing his eyes.

"Just disorientated." He hears.

Kageyama hums, content to stay in this position for the rest of his life.

 

*

He never hears the end of it.

"I wish concussed Yama would come out more." Hinata sighs wistfully. "You thought a bunny was called a _babbit_."

Kageyama grumbles, jaw clenched.

"It was so _cute!"_ Hinata squeals, jumping on the spot.

Kageyama feels his cheeks heat, and knows that most people don't think anything of calling their friend cute, most certainly not Hinata Shōyō, but it still makes Kageyama's heart lurch.

"It was like you were." Suddenly Hinata is stopping, freezing in place, and Kageyama stops as well.

"What? Now you look like the rabbit, dumbass." He snorts at Hinata's frozen pose. 

But then Hinata turns bright, shining eyes on him, the same eyes he gets when he thinks he's thought of something genius.

"No." Kageyama states instantly.

"I need to get you drunk."

This time, Kageyama really balks. " _No_." He states, harder.

" _C'mon,_ Kageyama-kun!" Hinata tries desperately, already turning into a bunny with his restless bouncing. "Please, I'll get drunk with you, I've only ever seen you tipsy that one time at New Year's Eve and I don't even remember it that well!"

"Why do you care so much?" Kageyama yells.

"Just cause!" Hinata shouts, because it's not as if he needs a reason, it's not as if he feels any kind of need to explain himself, to cover up his actions. "I _neeed_ to see it!" He squeals, and Kageyama knows that when Hinata goes super-sonic like this he doesn't let up until he's got what he wants.

"When?" He sighs with heavy resignation.

The light that sparks in Hinata's eyes is almost worth it. Almost.

 

*

"Did you steal this?" Kageyama furrows his brow down at the bottle of vodka Hinata has managed to procure.

Hinata holds a finger to his lips, snickering. "Shh, they'll hear."

They decided to get drunk on a Friday night with popcorn and a scary movie at Hinata’s house, because it seemed like a brilliant plan in the beginning, but now Kageyama is looking down at the bottle of clear liquid in distrust.

"We drink this?"

"No, _baka_ geyama!" Hinata laughs. "You add it to a drink! Like lemonade!"

Kageyama huffs. "I know _that_." He says, even though he didn't.

Hinata just grins at him, that strange lightness in his eyes he gets sometimes when looking at Kageyama, the same fond glow someone would get looking at their younger brother.

Kageyama grits his teeth, uncaps the bottle, and takes a swig.

It _burns_ , and has no taste other than pain, but pain is Kageyama's natural expression, and so he swallows it in one and sets it down again.

Hinata is staring, wide-eyed. "Let me try!"

Hinata, obviously, is the exact opposite to him.

He spits it out and coughs until his eyes are watering and his breaths are wheezing. Kageyama has to rub his back and help him through the experience.

"How long until we're drunk, do you think?" Hinata asks, settling the popcorn between them.

Kageyama purses his mouth, glancing down at his watch. "Not long." He decides.

 

*

As it turns out, they did it wrong.

An hour later, they're feeling no affect other than drooping eyelids, and one minute Hinata is leaning back on the headrest, legs folded neatly inside his own general space-bubble, and the next, a heavy head is falling onto Kageyama's shoulder, a snore already crackling its way out Hinata's mouth.

Kageyama twists his head to look down at Hinata.

His mouth is parted, expression soft and relaxed, all the sharp angles of his usually bright, eager little features smoothed out, making his jaw seem longer, the slope of his nose seem more elegant.

Kageyama smiles, and, as slow as humanly possible, lifts a hand to brush back a strand of red hair falling over Hinata's eyebrow with the tips of his fingers.

Hinata twitches, but remains otherwise unconscious.

Kageyama reaches down and pulls the blanket up over Hinata's legs, gently extracting the popcorn bowl from between them and setting it away. Then he shuffles down, getting comfortable, and turns his nose into Hinata's hair.

"April Fools, dumbass." He murmurs into the skin of Hinata's forehead.


	2. middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s I'm so sorry about the awkward/cliffhanger ending but it really is the only way to keep one chapter from being 10K

Four years ago, Kageyama confessed to Hinata at the age of thirteen.

Now, at seventeen, absolutely nothing has changed. Sometimes, a terrifying thought he only allows to himself is that it's getting _worse,_ but other than that, Hinata still doesn't know, they're still best friends, and Kageyama still wants to be with said best friend.

It's simple, it's easy. It's not ideal, but most of the time, it's second nature. He forgets about the longing, as long as he still has Hinata. Kageyama doesn’t want anything to change anymore, if change brings anything different. He doesn’t want Hinata to know, he’s accepted it.

So of course, it all changes in the space of a few seconds.

Yachi Hitoka is a girl in Hinata's class, someone that smiles in passing and exchanges a few words, someone who's never featured much in Kageyama's thoughts other than the occasional time they bump into one another.

Hinata comes bounding up to him at his locker, waving a note and grinning like a maniac.

"Guess what?" He starts.

"What." Kageyama states.

"Good guess." Hinata laughs, but Kageyama simply gives him a deadpan expression.

"You know Yachi?" Hinata says. Already, a leaden weight is forming in Kageyama's gut.

"Yeah?" He leans against his locker casually, trying to swallow down the rising panic.

"Well, we've been talking and she left me this note and she wants to go on a date." Hinata spills in a rush.

Kageyama has never actually experienced what it means to be faced with heartbreak.

Of course, pining for someone from afar is never an enjoyable experience, but it's not heart-breaking.

Faced with the object of your love - a love you've shored against the ruins of yourself, you've sheltered and protected, nurtured, cared for, watered every day and built a home for - being with someone else, Kageyama can understand what people mean when they talk about the heart inside their chest splitting in two.

Looking at Hinata, he feels as if he's been ruptured.

He feels as if Hinata has walked up to him and stuck a knife right through his chest, right into his lungs.

So with all this in mind, all he manages is a simple, 'oh.'

Hinata blinks. "Oh? Is that all you can say?" He's looking at Kageyama almost - _scrutinisingly_ , and Kageyama has never felt so exposed, so open and vulnerable and capable of being hurt.

"Well." He manages. "What - what are you going to do?"

Hinata blinks up at him. "Go on the date, duh!" He says.

If Kageyama's heart had been ruptured beforehand, if it had been split open, those words are the thing to tear it fully in half, separate the two parts and let them fall to his feet.

He looks down at the floor, willing the emotion to recede. _I can do this later, I'll do this later, not now._

Kageyama glances up sharply. "Cool."

Hinata is still looking at him with that strange look. "Is that it? Don't you want to know more?"

There's more?

"There's more?" Kageyama hears himself asking, unthinking.

Hinata waves the note. "Don't you want to read? She said that she's felt this way -"

Kageyama holds up his hands. "You - that's private, I don't -"

"Aw, c'mon Kageyama -"

" _I said no_." His voice cuts sharper than intended, and Hinata blinks, stunned.

"Okay." Hinata says.

"I have to get to class." Kageyama starts. "But." His mouth moves, but he doesn't know what he could possibly say. He doesn't know why he started the sentence with _but_.

"But?" Hinata asks.

"I'll see you later." Kageyama says, and then he's swinging his backpack over his shoulder and walking away.

The pain doesn't leave for the whole day.

Kageyama wonders maybe if he sleeps on it, it'll stop hurting. But he wakes up in the morning and he's forgotten about it, and for a bright, blissful moment everything is the same, until he thinks - _something bad happened yesterday_ , _something terrible_ , and it hits him, and his chest wound re-opens.

 

*

This is hard.

Scratch that, this is impossible.

Hinata and Yachi start dating, and then she's always there, by his side, laughing and leaning into him as Hinata talks.

They spend lunch together, and Kageyama catches them as he's passing to get milk, sees them sitting close and sharing food.

 _I could love you,_ is the only thing Kageyama can think. _I could love you so much more. So much more than I do now, so much more than I'm allowed._

_Just so much more than anyone, Hinata._

Yachi hits Hinata's arm playfully, and Kageyama thinks - _I would ruffle your hair, you prefer that_ , she laughs loud as he speaks and Kageyama thinks - _I would let you finish, you always enjoy the punchline more_.

Kageyama lies on his back at night, plugs in his earphones, and listens to the only thing that helps.

And maybe it's typical, maybe he's playing the classic heartbroken, naïve fool, but listening to someone sing his own feelings back at him, someone empathise with his inability to breathe and the physical pain everywhere in his body, is the only comfort he's allowed.

 _'He's the song, in the car_ ,' Kageyama mouths along silently, _'I keep singing, don't know why I do._ '

 

*

It's a week. It's been a week, but it feels like a decade.

Other than the agony of seeing Hinata with someone else, there's the duller ache of missing his best-friend.

But Hinata seems otherwise unaffected, waving to Kageyama in passing as he walks along with Yachi, leaving Kageyama standing there at his locker, in his pathetic shoes with his pathetic feet planted firmly on the ground.

Every time he works up the nerve to talk to Hinata, to try and catch him alone, he loses it, and then he's just pacing the floor of his bedroom, his phone growing hot in his hand because he's been holding it open at the empty text box to Hinata for so long.

He flops down onto his bed, shoving his face into his pillow and pressing hands into his eyes.

“Urgh!” Kageyama groans, on the sixth consecutive night of this.

The idea comes to him in an instant. He jerks up, looking over to his desk, the empty sheets of paper.

Kageyama sits awkwardly, picking up a pen with stiff fingers. He puts the ballpoint to paper, pausing, thinking of how this is going to be impossible, but then the words are coming.

 

*

*

_Hinata,_

_I'm writing this letter because it's been hard to talk to you lately. I know you've been busy, but I find it really hard to say these things anyways, so it's alright._

_I have to tell you how I feel. You probably haven't noticed, but I think maybe this week has been the worst one of my life - yes, that beats losing to Oikawa for best setter._

_I've woken up every morning sick to my stomach, and I'm not sure how much longer I can bear it. I know it's not your fault, but it's because I love you **.**_

_No, this isn't April Fools. This is the truth, the real truth. It’s the 22 nd of March, and I love you._

_I won't start getting poetic, and I won't try to convince you, but if there was a chance you felt the same - maybe just a little, then I can promise that drunk Kageyama will come out more. We wouldn't have to do anything you didn't want, I would be happy knowing that you're just mine._

_If not, I don't want this to change anything between us. I would still love to be considered your friend, although I would appreciate if you took my feelings into consideration regarding Yachi._

_I wasn't going to tell you this, but I feel it's probably time. If not Yachi, then someone else would come along, and I would end up losing you to my inability to cope with it._

_I hope you're happy, either way, no matter what you do. I hope even more that this letter has given you a little bit of happiness, but if not, I understand._

_I think I'll end the letter here. I know I text would have done what job, but I couldn't make my fingers press send._

_Yours, as always,_

_Tobio Kageyama_

 

*

It burns a hole in his pocket the next day.

Kageyama doesn’t even know why he took it to school. It’s not as if he’s going to spring it upon Hinata, shove the letter at his chest and leave him to it.

He was planning on slipping it into Hinata’s post after school and making himself scarce so Hinata wouldn’t catch him at his house. He had the whole night organised – run home, hide in his bed for a week, and come out to face the music eventually.

Only now he’s here, he feels as if the letter is on fire, a bright flame lighting him up that he’s carrying around for everyone to see. It’s a thick, heavy weight in his pant leg, but it’s also more than that.

Kageyama feels as if everyone can read the words he’s written, everyone can see his pathetic excuse of a confession. The letters on the page feel branded onto his skin, tattooed with permanent ink.

“Kageyama!” He hears, and then Hinata is bounding up, radiating energy and life.

Kageyama stills, freezing up. He tries not to make any sudden movements toward his pocket. His fingers twitch.

“I’m having lunch with Yachi today, that okay?” He asks.

_If there was a chance you felt the same – maybe just a little._

_I would be happy knowing that you're just mine._

Hinata doesn’t feel the same. Of course he doesn’t. _He’s dating someone else._

Why did Kageyama even write that? Why did he have to include his foolish, ridiculous hopes into the letter? As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough, why does he plead for Hinata to at least consider him?

Oh God, he can never show Hinata this letter. It can never see the light of day. It needs to be incinerated, burnt to a crisp and buried deep underground, in the desert, in a locked safe. Not even a pile of ashes is safe to leave unprotected.

“Yama?” Hinata asks, peering up into his face.

“Oh, yeah.” Kageyama says. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Hinata studies him for a second, searching his face over, before nodding once and bounding off again, the same way he’s done for the past week.

Kageyama watches him go, a dull throbbing sensation in his chest.

 

*

He goes into the bathroom and scribbles that line out.

Then he re-reads it again, imagining Hinata’s hands holding the paper, Hinata’s eyes skimming the words, processing them, _understanding_ them – and then he’s scoring out whole paragraphs, taking away the _always yours_ , the _not sure how long I can bear it_ , until he’s just left with a sheet of black scribbled out lines, half-sentences that make no sense.

Kageyama sighs, going out to find the nearest trash can. He drops it inside, only of course, in his Hinata-addled brain, he manages to do even that wrong.

 

*

There’s a commotion in the courtyard at lunch.

Kageyama pays it no mind, bending to slide loose change into the vending machine slot, until he hears jeering, sudden calls of, ‘ _there he is!’, ‘over there!’_

Kageyama glances up, only to see a crowd gathered around Oikawa, holding up a white sheet of paper and beaming.

It doesn’t process at first.

Of course it doesn’t, it’s too horrible. Kageyama blinks, numb, and thinks, _surely not, it can’t be –_

But then Oikawa points to him, still holding the paper, and Kageyama suddenly sees the black scribbled lines of his own hand as the sheet waves in the air.

Kageyama is running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who doesn't need some Taylor Swift when pining


	3. ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for how the last chapter ended, but it's alright, because the wait wasn't long ;)

He sprints, faster than he ever has in his life, faster than he ever has on the court.

“Who knew!” Oikawa is laughing, Kageyama can hear, talking to the group of people gathered. “The Mighty King has a heart!”

Kageyama lunges, but before his feet are even off the ground, before he’s even _moved_ , he feels a no-nonsense grip on his arm, as tight as a vice and as unstoppable as one.

Kageyama turns to face Iwaizumi Hajime, who gives him a cold stare and a perfectly raised eyebrow.

“ _This week has been the worst one of my life,”_ Oikawa is saying, his face exuberant, _“And yes, it beats losing to Oikawa for best setter.”_

Kageyama feels his blood run cold, turn to ice inside his veins and freeze up.

Oikawa laughs, loud and delighted. “I’m honoured I make the top list!”

“Give it _back!”_ Kageyama shouts, and is mortified by the loud crack in his voice, like the clap of thunder that rips across the sky. “This isn’t _funny!”_ He struggles against the hold on him, but Iwaizumi is stronger.

“I’ll let you go if you promise not to hurt him.” A deep voice murmurs at his side, but Kageyama pays it no attention, his feet skidding on the dirt and kicking up dust as he growls, struggling with all his might.

“Who said anything about funny?” Oikawa gasps theatrically. “I’m trying to show the entire school that Tobio-chan has a heart!”

Kageyama feels brittle, broken tears well up inside his throat and threaten to spill out. Not trusting his voice, he simply wriggles harder, snarls harsh and animalistic.

“That’s enough, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi says, his voice as calm and cool as Kageyama is not.

“But I haven’t even gotten to the good part!” Oikawa pouts, and Kageyama goes to open his mouth, until the sound of a voice has him going stiff, rigid.

“Ka - _Kageyama!”_ Hinata cries.

If Kageyama's blood had frozen to ice before, it feels as if it all drains from his body now.

“Let him go!” The sound of sneakers skidding on the ground is unmistakable and then suddenly a body is pummelling into him from the side, forcing Iwaizumi to release his grip.

“Speak of the devil!” Oikawa shouts gleefully, and Kageyama sprints forward at full speed.

Oikawa evades him easily, steeping to the side at the last second and letting Kageyama trip and crash to the ground.

“Hinata, don’t you want to hear?” Oikawa asks. “It’s for you, after all.”

Kageyama straightens as quick as possible, scrambling up so fast he trips again, flailing in his desperation, but by then it’s too late.

It was too late as soon as he put pen to paper, as soon as he brought the cursed, wretched thing into school.

“ _Hinata,_ _I'm writing this letter because it's been hard to talk to you lately.”_ Oikawa begins grandly.

Everything stops.

Kageyama is standing now. He could reach out, snatch the letter away, stop all this.

But as soon as those words are out of Oikawa’s mouth, Hinata freezes.

He stares at Kageyama with confusion and something like hurt, and all Kageyama can do is stand, locked in place, and let it happen.

 _“I know you've been busy, but I find it really hard to say these things anyways, so it's alright.”_ Oikawa puts his hand on his heart. “Aww, Tobio-chan, you really are the most pure.”

Hinata is trying to catch his gaze, trying to communicate with him, but Kageyama turns his head away, because he knows what the next words are.

“ _I have to tell you how I feel.”_ Oikawa recites. “ _I've woken up every morning sick to my stomach, and I'm not sure how much longer I can bear it.”_ He sniffles, adding theatrics, before saying, _“I know it's not your fault, but it's because I love you.”_

There are no earthquakes. There’s no crescendo of music, no climatic moment. There’s just Kageyama’s own ragged breathing in his ears, and darkness, because he’s squeezed his eyes shut.

It's not a movie. There's no pan of the camera to see the reactions of everyone around him, no soft, swelling sound of an orchestra.

There’s just silence, and dark.

Kageyama can’t look at Hinata. He can’t see.

“ _No, this isn't April Fools.”_ Oikawa grins. _“This is the truth, the real truth. It’s the 22 nd of March, and I love you.” _Oikawa lifts the paper away from his face. “April Fools? Did someone confess as a joke?”

Kageyama feels himself shaking. How many times did he write it? Why didn’t he score that out, crumple it up, rip it to shreds? Why did he bring it here? _Why is this happening?_

“Ouch.” Oikawa continues.

“I think that’s enough.” It’s Iwaizumi who speaks this time.

“But I’m just getting to the good part!” Oikawa says petulantly. “I may as well finish! It’s beautiful, Iwa-chan. I wish someone would write something like this for me.”

“Maybe they will, when you stop being trash.” Iwaizumi says, and there’s anger in his voice, real anger.

Kageyama cracks an eye open.

It’s a mistake.

Hinata is frozen on the spot.

His face is open and bare, but there’s nothing there.

He doesn’t have an expression, there’s no emotion on his face. It’s just blank, bare. His wide eyes are vacant, fixed on Kageyama.

Kageyama can’t seem to close his eyes again. He just stares back, as frozen as Hinata is.

Oikawa clenches his jaw and shoots a heated look to Iwaizumi. He clears his throat, purpose reignited.

 _“I won't start getting poetic, and I won't try to convince you, but if there was a chance you felt the same - maybe just a little, then I can promise that drunk Kageyama will come out more.”_ Oikawa lifts his eyes from the page, whistling low. “A _drunk_ Tobio-chan? This is something I want to see.”

Kageyama is still looking at Hinata. Hinata is still looking back.

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi states, voice deep and dark.

 _“We –_ oh, I can’t read this, I need my glasses.” Oikawa narrows his eyes. _“We wouldn't have to do anything, I would be happy knowing that you're just mine_.” Oikawa squints, and then he’s beaming. “This is positively adorable. I never knew Tobio-chan felt so strongly.”

He scored that part out. He scored it _out_.

Why is Oikawa reading something he purposefully erased? Why is this happening to him? _Why is this happening?_

Is it almost over? How much did he write again, is it more than one page? How long has it been? Kageyama feels as if he’s been standing on this spot for hours.

Twenty minutes? Half an hour? A few seconds?

Hinata hasn’t done anything, said anything. He’s still staring, face blank. Kageyama is watching him now, but there’s just nothing there.

Kageyama wills it to be over. He looks away, down to the side, and just wills it all to be over.

 _“I don't want this to change anything between us, I would still love to be considered your friend.”_ Oikawa’s grin seems tight now, forced on his face. “This is all very tragic, Tobio, for your age.”

“Oikawa –” Iwaizumi begins again, and starts forward.

 _“If not Yachi, then someone else would come along, and I would end up losing you to my inability to cope with it.”_ Oikawa says, and there’s no mistaking that his voice has changed. The mocking lilt to it has disappeared.

 _“I know I text would have done what job, but I couldn't make my fingers press send.”_ Oikawa lets the paper fall, voice soft as he finishes.

 _“Yours, as always,_ ” Oikawa murmurs, “ _Tobio Kageyama.”_

Nothing happens. There’s silence.

Oikawa is silent. Iwaizumi is silent. The crowd is silent.

Kageyama is silent.

There’s rustling, and Hinata is reaching for something in his blazer pocket.

He unfolds the crumpled piece of paper, and his hands are shaking as he smoothes it out.

“Kageyama.” He starts.

Kageyama looks up, whipping his head around.

Surely not. It can't be.

Kageyama doesn't dare hope.

Hinata is trembling, his tiny hands almost crushing the paper. His red head is bowed, and his shoulders look small from this distance, his frame all turned inwards.

 

“I’m writing this because I’ve tried every other way, and it’s never worked.” Hinata coughs, clears his throat. “I – I know you might think a letter is ridiculous, but it’s the only thing I could think of.”

Kageyama feels his entire being go very, very still.

“So today is the 21st of March, and I love you.” Hinata states the words so clearly, so plainly. His voice doesn’t crack, doesn’t break. He simply takes a breath, and adds, “yesterday was the 20th, and I loved you. Tomorrow is the 22nd, and I’ll still love you.”

Kageyama has never had an out-of-body experience.

He doesn’t think he would ever want one, because it doesn’t exactly sound enjoyable, but he’s also sure that this is the closest he’ll ever get.

Because he’s standing on the spot, in his feet, in his body, but it feels as if he’s outside, floating somewhere above himself.

Hinata peeks at him above his letter, eyes darting up as if checking for a reaction, but surely – surely, he doesn’t _need_ one. Surely, he already _knows._

Kageyama can’t move. He’s somewhere drifting, all his bones loose, floating in zero-gravity. He knows his expression must be blank, vacant with his mouth agape, but there’s nothing he can do.

Abruptly, Hinata’s reaction makes startling, crystal clear sense, because Kageyama is his perfect mirror.

Hinata swallows hard, throat clicking, and goes back to the letter.

“I thought it was better to keep it a secret, because I thought you would never feel the same, but Yachi told me I was wrong.” Hinata’s eyes glance to the side where more people are joining the crowd. He crinkles the paper in his grip. “And she – she said, maybe if I dated someone, things would be different.” His voice stutters, half the school now surrounding them.

Hinata swallows again, and looks at Kageyama.

Kageyama wants to step forward, wants to take Hinata in his arms and forget about the letter, about the words, about the people – about _everything_. But he’s caught in rapture, breath held and pulse stopped for the next words out of Hinata’s mouth.

“So she told me to date her for a week, and if nothing changed, she owed me a meat bun.” Hinata explains, reading the words as his eyes move. “I thought it would be easy. I had nothing to lose, and if you didn’t react, well, things would be fine.”

Kageyama’s throat feels dry, parched. He realises he’s not been breathing quire right, and that’s probably why every exhale is raspy and thick, but he finds he doesn’t care.

If his heart had been broken before – if it had been torn apart and ripped into pieces, it’s healed now. It’s fully recovered, but more than that, it’s _improved_. It’s rejuvenated. It’s swollen two sizes too big and still expanding out, swelling inside his chest.

“But I was wrong.” Hinata says, and looks up again, away from the words. His eyes are large and clear and _honest_ – his sincerity and earnestness and everything else completely visible. “Because it was worse – to see that you didn’t care. So I’ve decided to tell you, finally, because it gets harder every day.”

Hinata takes a shaky breath in, ignoring the people that are standing gobsmacked, and gives Kageyama a soft, sheepish smile. “It felt good to say it, on April Fool’s, to finally let it out, but when you said it back as a joke, well, that hurt more than a volleyball to the face.” Hinata grins self-deprecatingly at his own words.

“It.” Kageyama starts, but his throat is so dry that his voice cuts off.

Hinata pauses, waiting.

“It felt good to hear it.” Kageyama murmurs, hoping the wind will be enough to carry his voice.

“Not done.” Hinata says, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay.” Kageyama says.

Hinata goes to carry on, but then he huffs a laugh, rolling his eyes.

Kageyama feels himself laugh too, a shaky kind of euphoric thing, less of a laugh and more of a huffed, exhaled breath of joy.

It doesn’t matter that they have an audience. It doesn’t matter that Oikawa Tōru is watching him.

None of it matters, when Hinata smiles then, all his teeth appearing, and Kageyama feels something settle deep inside his stomach, a hot, content, _right_ feeling.

“It only started after you confessed as a joke that year, but since then, it hurts all the time.” Hinata carries on. “I see you, and it’s like –”, he looks up then, “um, I didn’t know what to write, so I drew you tossing to me, but it basically means _FWAH_ , which is, like – the highest level of - of feeling.” Hinata is stuttering, and he turns the page to show a chicken-scrawl of a figure, both arms outstretched, a ball mid-air.

Kageyama feels his mouth moving, stretching wide apart, and he knows his grin is creepy at the best of times, so tries to quell it, but to no avail. It spreads over his face like wildfire, catching onto every one of his features until he’s beaming.

The shock has receded, leaving with it a kind of tentative bliss, a cloudy haze of happiness taking over Kageyama’s mind.

Hinata seems to be the same, because he takes a step forward, almost mindlessly, at Kageyama’s grin, before he stops.

“But – oh yeah, it hurts.” Hinata shakes his head, blinking. He clears his throat, clearly getting ready to recite again. “I know this will change everything, but even if you liked me back a little, not much, we could hold hands and share things and not do anything else and I would be quiet the whole time.”

Kageyama can’t help it.

He laughs.

He laughs, loud and delighted, because Hinata just said he wanted to hold his hand, and his letter is basically the exact replica of Kageyama’s, and even now, he’s still promising to be quiet when they both know it’s an impossibility.

Hinata glances up sharply at Kageyama’s laugh, and his eyes are crinkling with the force of his own beam, and Kageyama hasn’t even _touched_ him yet.

Yet. _Yet._ Yet yet yetyetyet–

“If you don’t like me back.” Here, Hinata grins, impish and proud and Kageyama needed his hands on Hinata _yesterday,_ “well then, we’ll still be best friends, because I’ve dealt with this for three years, so what’s three more?”

Kageyama takes a step closer, not even bothering to look at the people in the side of his vison, feet stumbling and legs weak.

Hinata is still reading. “I just wanted you to know, and I’ll let you take the time you need and want to think about it. Yours since always,” Hinata folds up his letter and puts it back in his pocket. “Hinata Shōyō.”

Kageyama takes another step, and then Hinata is walking closer too.

Kageyama feels as if his heart is full enough to burst at this point, and he stops just short of a few metres away.

“Hinata.” He starts, not even daring to lift a finger.

Hinata stops right in front of him too, and tips his face upward, his chin titled to the sky as he beams big and bright at Kageyama.

“Idiot Hinata.” Kageyama breathes, softer. His body feels as if it’s under some kind of spell, some witchcraft that keeps him in a state of dazed, wondrous floating.

“ _Bakageyama_.” Hinata murmurs, and Kageyama feels a touch at his waist, feels a small hand spread along the length of his side and stay there.

Hinata is wonderfully flushed and pink, and his eyes are so exuberant it’s as if the colour has been lit up inside.

Kageyama finds his own hand lifting, and it’s trembling, he can see it, but that doesn’t matter, because the tips of his fingers touch Hinata’s jaw, the strong, soft shape of it, and Hinata leans into the touch.

Kageyama trails the rough pads of his calloused fingertips along Hinata’s chin, curling along the small angle of his jaw, his thumb skimming the jut of Hinata’s bottom lip.

Kageyama’s pulse is thudding in his ears, and Hinata is looking up at him, waiting, expecting. Kageyama presses his thumb down into the softness, and Hinata’s lips part, but then Kageyama is tipping his head up and bending down.

Hinata meets him in the middle, pressing up on his toes, one hand bunching in Kageyama’s t-shirt.

They connect.

Their mouths touch, their lips meet, and Kageyama’s breath hitches in a strange way, like the stutter of a broken, dying engine.

He’s suddenly overcome – suddenly, _stupidly_ overwhelmed, and finds his eyes burning, tears pricking the backs of his eyelids. He freezes, his muscles locking in place.

Hinata pulls back, but he’s grinning, and then Kageyama is enveloping Hinata in his arms.

Small hands come around to grip his back, and Kageyama closes his eyes and presses his face into Hinata’s hair, wrapping his arms tighter, squeezing for all his worth.

There’s a noise beside them that sounds suspiciously like a choked-back sob, before feet are slapping the ground as someone runs away.

“Wh– _Oikawa!”_ Iwaizumi shouts, and then there’s the sound of his feet as Iwaizumi runs after him.

Kageyama pulls away the same moment Hinata does, and they blink at Oikawa’s rapidly retreating back, Iwaizumi catching up to him.

Hinata’s eyes are alight with mischief and knowing, his eyes crinkled and his face beaming.

Kageyama doesn’t even want to know what he looks like – flushed, awe-struck, trying and failing not to grin.

“Hi.” Hinata huffs out, sounding a little breathless.

Kageyama feels just as out of breath. “Hey, there.”

Suddenly, as if they just notice all the eyes on them.

Kageyama and Hinata turn, and are met with the gobsmacked faces of their fellow students.

“WOO _HOO!”_ There’s a sudden, shrieking cry, and Kageyama sees Yachi pump a fist into the air above the heads of people in front of her. She’s standing beside Tanaka, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes and trying to hide it.

Nishinoya is beside him, arms crossed and grinning wide as if he’s just won something. Suga is there too, leaning into Daichi, face pressed into his shoulder and smiling, turning to murmur something in his ear.

Daichi waves over to them, nodding, an arm around Suga’ waist.

Kageyama feels his face flame, blood rushing all the way to his cheeks, and Hinata seems to be in a similar positon – turning his face down and away to hide his red ears. Kageyama can feel his mouth stretching again, and takes one of Hinata’s hot ears, giving it a little pull.

There’s a smattering of claps, mostly from their energetic teammates, but Kageyama notices a few people grinning too.

The crowd has already started to disperse, with Iwaizumi and Oikawa nowhere to be seen.

“Shows over!” Hinata shouts, embarrassed, and Kageyama laughs. He wraps hesitant fingers around Hinata’s wrist, sliding them down, but Hinata is already turning his palm up and joining their hands.

Kageyama feels as if he could pass out. He feels lightheaded, as dizzy as he would be if he’d just been struck with a volleyball.

Kageyama looks down at their joined hands, at Hinata’s smaller one encased in his big, lanky fingers, Hinata’s own little fingers resting against the back of his hand, wrapped tight, and feels a sudden rush run through him.

And then Hinata is yanking that hand and pulling him along, and Kageyama stumbles but rights himself just in time, running along with him.

Hinata just keeps running, running and running, and doesn’t look back until they’re around the corner of the building, in a secluded area, with nobody else there.

It’s just a patch of grass outside, but Hinata pushes him to the brick wall, and Kageyama’s pulse jolts.

“Where is it?” Hinata is asking, and Kageyama realises he’s patting down his sides, clearly looking for something.

“What?” Kageyama asks, dazed.

“The letter!” Hinata shouts, eyes fevered and bright as they rove over his frame.

“I – Oikawa has it.” Kageyama stutters.

Hinata makes a soft growling noise, moving as if to sprint away, but Kageyama catches his wrist, pulling him in.

Hinata blinks up at him, confused, but then Kageyama steps forward, both hands coming up to frame Hinata’s head, run through the short strands at his ears and bury in his hair.

“Wh –” Hinata starts, but Kageyama has waited long enough, and he doesn’t have to wait anymore. He’s not waiting anymore.

He starts walking, backing Hinata up as his feet stumble, and then he spins Hinata around and presses him to the wall.

Hinata’s breath hitches, a slight gasp, and then Kageyama leans down, brushing his nose against Hinata’s.

“Dumbass.” He breathes against Hinata’s mouth, and Hinata squirms, hands coming to land on Kageyama’s hips and grip tight.

“I want the letter.” Hinata says, but it’s more of an exhale.

“I’m not talking about the letter.” Kageyama murmurs, his voice deepening in his chest. “I’m talking about you.”

“It was you, _baka_ geyama, who told me you liked me on April Fools.” Hinata huffs.

“And you kept saying it, every year, as a joke.” Kageyama says, pressing into Hinata harder, the lengths of their fronts touching.

Hinata only blinks up at him, the colour on his face darkening. “You meant it, didn’t you?” He breathes. “When you said it?”

Kageyama looks at Hinata, holding his gaze, and then he nods.

“Me too.” Hinata says, beaming wide.

“All this time?” Kageyama asks, because he needs to know.

Hinata nods, brown eyes sparkling. “All this time.”

Kageyama steps back, and hits Hinata, once, twice, three, four times.

“Then. Why. Did. You. _Date someone else_?” He growls the last part.

Hinata rubs his shoulder. “ _Ow!_ Because Yama, I didn’t know!” He has the audacity to look wounded. “You never said anything!”

“How could I?” Kageyama shouts. “You left me for a whole week!”

Hinata’s face softens, abruptly, and then he’s stepping close again. “Silly Yama, I only did it to make you jealous.”

“Don’t call me Yama.” Kageyama grumbles, cheeks heating again. “Makes me feel like you’re talking to some lama.”

“My lama.” Hinata says, poking his tongue out, and Kageyama feels heat travel throughout his whole body.

“Mm.” Kageyama grumbles, but doesn’t deny it.

Hinata laughs, and his hands slide up along Kageyama’s waist again, pulling him in. Kageyama feels his heart lurch in his chest, the same as before, and he really hopes it stops soon because it’s becoming a little dizzying.

“You’re too tall.” Hinata murmurs. “You have to bend down.”

“Why?” Kageyama smiles, but Hinata is pulling on his shirt.

“Just do it.” He says, and Kageyama does.

Hinata rises on his tip-toes and meets him, his mouth bumping Kageyama’s until Kageyama really crouches low, slotting their lips together, his eyes falling closed as he kisses Hinata – _he kisses Hinata, kisses him, he’s kissing him._

Hinata makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, mouth opening with a wet slide and his tongue peeking out. Kageyama’s hands come up to Hinata’s hair again, holding the back of his head as Hinata licks into his mouth, exhaling in one long breath. Kageyama shivers at that, his bones trembling.

Hinata’s hands are sliding, past his hips, fingers teasing the exposed skin and running lower –

Kageyama freezes.

Hinata jerks back, hands lifting high as they’ve been burned. “Sorry!” He squeaks. “Sorry, sorry –”

“Idiot.” Kageyama mutters, still flushed. “What are you doing that for?”

Hinata doesn’t meet his eyes. “I – I just, I’ve always looked but I– I’ve always wanted to, but I’ve never been allowed.”

Kageyama strokes Hinata’s cheek with the pad of his thumb. “To what?”

Hinata doesn’t look at him. “Just – touch.” He coughs. “You.”

“You can touch me.” Kageyama murmurs.

Hinata looks at him. And then he’s hastily running hands down, fingers coming to grip into Kageyama’s backside.

 _“Hinata!”_ Kageyama shouts, his voice rising two octaves higher.

“Feels better than it looks.” Hinata is muttering, his hands massaging Kageyama’s rear, and then a mouth is on Kageyama’s neck, nipping the skin as fingers spread him apart and squeeze the flesh of his butt.

“Hin –” Kageyama gasps, his head falling back, and he really shouldn’t have been worried about Hinata feeling the same – worried that Hinata preferred cute girls with hair clips and soft smiles, because the hands on his ass are very determined and very, _very_ real.

“You have no idea how long,” Hinata breathes into his skin, “I’ve wanted to do this.”

Kageyama feels himself tremble at Hinata’s words, but Hinata is continuing.

“Kept seeing you change for practise, always caught you in black boxers, it was like _gwaaa,_ a punch to the stomach, are you wearing them, I wanna know –” suddenly fingers are going under the waistband of his trousers and feeling the elastic band of his briefs, sliding lower, underneath his pants.

“Hin – I really –” Kageyama chokes, the tell-tale tightening in his gut sending sparks of pleasure to shoot up his spine. “I’m really –”

“You _are_.” Hinata says gleefully, almost vibrating. “I want to feel more –”

“Hinata, _no_.” Kageyama gasps. “We – we’re in school, you can’t –”

“Why? I’m just feeling.” Hinata frowns.

“But I.” Kageyama cuts himself off with a sharp exhale through his nostrils. “I need a minute.” He states.

Hinata gazes up at him, and he’s not so naïve to misunderstand what Kageyama means. His eyes darken, pupils expanding out, making his eyes almost completely black.

“Okay.” Hinata says.

Kageyama breathes out, closing his eyes.

Fingertips trail along the hard ridge outlining his crotch.

Kageyama jumps about three feet in the air. “ _Hinata!”_ He cries again.

“I’m sorry!” Hinata wails. “I just – I’ve been holding back _so much_ –”

“You think I haven’t!” Kageyama says. “We’re in school!”

Hinata just looks up at him with that dark, heated gaze. “If I said you could do the one thing you’ve always wanted to do to me, wouldn’t you?”

Kageyama’s mouth dries up in the space of seconds.

“I.” Is all he manages.

“Whatever you want.” Hinata says, and those words and slowly causing brain cells to die off, one by one, inside Kageyama’s head. “Anything.”

Kageyama makes a helpless choked noise, somewhere deep in his chest. “You’re not helping.” He rasps.

Hinata takes his hand, placing it on his hip, but Hinata doesn’t know some of Kageyama’s weirdest, kinkiest fantasies, thinking that Kageyama probably just wants to touch Hinata in the same way Hinata has.

But Kageyama wants Hinata in more ways than the obvious, and finds that when he’s faced with the ability to act on that – even for just a second – he can’t let the opportunity pass.

Kageyama runs his hand down, fingertips trailing along the hard muscle of Hinata’s thigh.

Hinata quakes where he stands, but Kageyama runs that hand up, underneath his shirt, skimming the warm, smooth skin with gentle pads of fingers, then he’s going higher and pressing his thumb into Hinata’s nipple.

Hinata hisses quickly, his spine arching up, and that.

That was not what Kageyama was expecting.

“How did you _know?”_ He whines.

All the blood in Kageyama’s body rushes down, and he feels the little hard nub quickly perking up to his touch. The light-headedness is suddenly coming back full-force.

“Yama, you have to stop.” Hinata wheezes, squirming on the spot, utterly restless.

Kageyama keeps thumbing Hinata’s nipple, just flicking it back and forth, and breathy little noises are falling out Hinata’s mouth, the pert nub fully hard and wrinkled, sensitive to the touch.

“Please.” Hinata tries, but Kageyama doesn’t know what Hinata is pleading for.

“Please?” He repeats, and his voice is utterly unrecognisable – thick and throaty, but Hinata just shakes his head.

“I can’t.” He squirms again, and Kageyama presses into him until they’re fully touching. There’s no mistaking the hardness he finds, and Kageyama rubs against it, just a teasing roll of his hips.

Hinata cries out, eyes squeezed shut, and he balls up both fists and presses them to his eyes. “Ah, Yama-kun, please!”

“Please what?” Kageyama rasps again, low and dark.

Hinata just shakes his head, overcome.

Kageyama steps back, abrupt, putting space between them before he does something rash.

Hinata’s hands fall away, blinking wide and disorientated, and it would be adorable save for his plump, bitten lips, wet and shining with spit, his flushed, hot face, and the way that both his nipples are now hard and visible through his white school shirt.

Kageyama groans, squeezing his eyes shut. “This was a bad idea.”

Hinata blows out a shaky breath. “After school?” He offers, hope creeping into his expression.

“Dumbass.” Kageyama huffs. “Of course.”

Hinata nods, and pulls out his phone from his pocket, wiggling his hips around the uncomfortableness to check the time. “Lunch is over.” He says.

Kageyama doesn’t look at Hinata’s crotch. He stares straight at Hinata’s face. “Okay.”

“You have a creepy look in your eyes.” Hinata tells him. “Like you’re focusing on the ball.”

Kageyama grits his teeth. “I’ll meet you at the gates?” He asks.

Hinata nods.

There’s a beat, an awkward moment where neither of them are sure what to do, but then Hinata is stepping up and rising onto his tip-toes to press a kiss to the bottom of Kageyama’s jaw, because he’s too small to reach Kageyama’s cheek.

But then he’s dashing off, his shirt still rucked up and gait still slightly limping, and Kageyama watches him go.

He touches the spot that Hinata kissed. It feels warm.

Kageyama smiles lopsidedly at the brick wall.

 

*

School drags on for what seems like another decade.

At long last Kageyama is finally at his locker, putting away his things and loading up his backpack, when he feels a touch to his shoulder, and whips around -

Oikawa is standing, mouth pursed and arms crossed. Iwaizumi stands behind him, expression blank.

Oikawa tosses his hair back, flicking it away from his eyes. "I have to apologise, but I thought I would let you know, without me, you wouldn't have heard Chibi-chan's beautiful confession either."

"I would have." Kageyama states. "Because he would have given me it."

Oikawa doesn't say anything, but colour crawls it's away up his throat. "Well, anyway." He lifts something out his pocket and hands it to Kageyama.

It's been folded into neat little shapes and made into a small square, but Kageyama takes his own letter, unfolds it, and sees his big, black scribbles staring back at him.

It feels years ago that he wrote those words, even longer that he sat in the bathroom and scribbled them out.

Kageyama folds it up again, and nods. "Okay."

Oikawa nods too, and he glances off to the side for a second before clearing his throat. "I'm sorry I read out your letter." He says, and his face is stripped of all faux-charm. "It wasn't fair. I don't know what came over me. " He straightens his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and then says, "if you want, you can read out mine."

Kageyama blinks. Iwaizumi blinks.

"Uh." Kageyama stutters.

Oikawa hands him a neat envelope. "Tomorrow, lunch." He nods.

And then he's stalking off.

"Oikawa, what do you mean –” Iwaizumi thunders behind him, but Oikawa is already disappearing.

Kageyama stands, at a loss.

Then he pockets the envelope, swings his backpack over his shoulder, and grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The gorgeous art imbedded in this chapter is from my lovely friend [ noyaboya](https://noyaboya-draws.tumblr.com/), who is too good!!! Please go check her out and give her some love!!


	4. end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well then. I still don't understand how I managed to write nearly 20K in two days, and not finish uni work. truly baffling

*

"What took you so long!" Hinata is bouncing up and down at the gate, his two hands fisted in front of him as if he's ready to rocket off.

Kageyama clears his throat, and produces the envelope.

"Your letter!" Hinata squeals, but Kageyama steps back.

"Nope." He starts, cheeks hot. "Not mine. Oikawa's."

Hinata blinks, and then his entire face is flushing bright tomato red, and he's pushing up his sleeves right to his elbows and puffing his cheeks out. "Thinks he can just _confess_ to you after you've clearly said –”

Kageyama grips a hand into the back of Hinata's shirt as he walks, his feet kicking up dirt but not going anywhere.

"Hinata." Kageyama states.

"I'll give him a piece of my - _grrr_ , he's just - _GWAH_ , I could really  _fwaa,_ and then I'll –”, Hinata punches the air and lifts a leg to kick it out, " _fwap_ , and he won't see it coming –”

"Hinata." Kageyama repeats. "I think it's for someone else."

Hinata stops. He turns around, slowly, and blinks at him with wide eyes.

"Oh." He says.

 

*

As soon as they get to Kageyama's house, Hinata is throwing off his shoes and jacket, leaving them in a heaped pile by the door, but that one simple thing that he's done a million times before sticks in Kageyama's mind.

Hinata's socked feet are thundering up the stairs and calling for him to, 'hurry up, Yamayama!', but Kageyama looks at Hinata's discarded clothes, and he thinks _\- Hinata is upstairs, in my bedroom, and I can touch him._

His mom isn’t home. Nobody is here. He can touch.

Hinata is sitting crossed-legged on the bed, waiting patiently, and he makes grabby-hands as soon as he sees Kageyama.

"Let's read Oikawa's letter!" He cries.

"You can read it out." Kageyama states. "I'm gonna get changed."

Hinata flushes in an instant, colour coming to his face quickly. "Oh – okay." He stutters, taking the letter from Kageyama’s offered hand.

Kageyama takes off his blazer, just slowly taking his arms out the sleeves.

"Uh." Hinata states, and then curiosity takes over. Kageyama bends close to read over Hinata’s shoulder.

_Iwaizumi,_

_I'm writing this letter because I'm in love with you, and it's hindering my ability to focus. I simply can't afford to lose concentration on the court, so if you would be kind enough to keep this in mind, I would be grateful._

_Otherwise, I will sabotage every single one of gym shorts and make you buy more appropriate practise gear._

_I don't think it needs to be said we will remain friends. If it does, then I'm disappointed in you, Iwa-chan._

_If you feel the same, please let me know. If you do not, give me three to four days._

_Yes, I'm yours,_

_Tōru_

“Huh.” Kageyama huffs, his breath exhaling out across Hinata’s jaw.

Hinata’s grip on the letter tightens, a muscle of his jaw ticking aw he swallows. “Hm.”

Kageyama steps back, a pleasant kind of buzz in his stomach, as if he’s just had a swig of champagne. He pops open the first button of his shirt, loosening the collar.

Hinata is staring down at the page. “Are you – are you still getting changed?”

“Mm.” Kageyama makes a soft noise of affirmation, and a steady, creeping satisfaction is unfurling inside his stomach as Hinata’s face heats up more – a darkening ruby the longer Kageyama toys with his clothes.

“What about your letter?” Hinata asks, still not looking up.

Kageyama shrugs casually. He doesn’t much care about the letter now, and he also knows Hinata doesn’t either. “Oikawa still has it.” He lies easily.

“Do you.” Hinata starts, his voice a little rougher. “Do you want me to go?”

Kageyama is enjoying this newfound rush of power he holds over Hinata far too much. He’s only just playing with the second button, but Hinata is practically vibrating on the bed, his legs tense with the effort of keeping still.

“Not particularly.” Kageyama states, twisting down the corners of his mouth insouciantly.

Hinata finally looks at him. There’s a heat in his gaze that Kageyama has ever seen.

Kageyama is quiet as he undoes the second button, and Hinata swallows, audible in the thick silence of the room. Hinata drops the letter, his full attention turning on Kageyama.

Kageyama keeps Hinata’s eyes locked in his hold as he undoes another, slipping the shirt off one corner of his shoulder, baring some of his skin.

Hinata’s mouth parts. “That’s – that’s not fair.” He croaks, even as his eyes are scanning every bit of exposed flesh that Kageyama offers.

Kageyama lets one side of his mouth curl, and he gazes back at Hinata, not hiding anything on his face.

Hinata licks his bottom lip. “C – can I?” He asks, and his fingers twitch where they’re buried in the sheets.

“Can you what?” Kageyama asks innocently.

“Do – do it?” He nods to Kageyama’s hands.

Kageyama takes a step forward, edging toward the bed. Hinata’s fists tighten, but then Kageyama puts a knee on the bed, leaning down into Hinata’s space.

“I would rather do yours.” Kageyama murmurs, his breath gusting out as he slides a hand down, just touching Hinata’s ankle where it’s folded under his leg.

Hinata turns his body into the touch beautifully: ankle pushing into Kageyama’s hand as his entire frame twisting around, unfurling like a flower, opening up.

Kageyama feels a hand on his shoulder, running along the bare shape of it, Hinata’s fingers on his naked skin, and he shudders before reaching down and slipping two fingers into Hinata’s sock, sliding it off.

Hinata’s breathing has sped up, growing fast, and Kageyama lifts Hinata’s foot and kisses the delicate arch of it, the jutting bone of his ankle.

“Yama –” Hinata starts, before Kageyama takes a toe inside his mouth.

Hinata _writhes_ , his back one long, elegant bow as Kageyama sucks on Hinata’s toes, moving onto each one and tonguing between them.

Hinata groans, groans as if he’s in pain, his foot flexing in Kageyama’s hand, but Kageyama has his eyes closed as he tastes Hinata’s skin.

“Yama, it’s not – clean, _oh_ –” Hinata’s words cut off into a round, drawn-out moan as Kageyama gently nips.

But Kageyama’s mouth is moving higher, along the ridge and up his leg, peppering soft brushes of lip up Hinata’s leg.

“Kage – _Tobio_ , I’m –”

The sound of those words sends a jolt of lightening down Kageyama’s spine, and he sucks a bruise into the flesh of Hinata’s shin, into those powerful leg muscles that propel him upwards, that tense as he changes direction and pushes himself off the ground.

“ _Shōyō_.” Kageyama breathes.

“GW– _AHH!”_ Hinata cries, voice breaking, and kicks him in the face.

Kageyama is holding his chin tipped upwards as Hinata scrambles, his hair in total disarray, eyes wild and fevered, face a darker red than his orange hair and in hilarious, stark contrast.

“Yama!” He shouts, hands flying to Kageyama’s face, and Kageyama huffs.

“Dumbass.” Kageyama states, but then Hinata’s face abruptly crumples as if he’s going to cry.

“Wh – Hinata.” Kageyama begins, worried, but Hinata falls backwards and buries himself into the pillow, curling into a tiny steaming red ball.

Kageyama bends over him, an unwilling chuckle escaping his lips. He isn’t hurt – Hinata’s foot was too close to do any damage, it only poked him.

Hinata says something that is utterly muffled by his pressing it into the bed.

“What?” Kageyama asks.

“I just ruined everything.” Hinata’s mournful wail comes out, the side of his mouth visible where he turns his head to speak.

Kageyama shuffles closer, nuzzling his nose into the nape of Hinata’s neck. “Did not.” He states.

“Did too.” Hinata says back.

“Didn’t.” Kageyama replies, and before Hinata can say anything, carries on. “I still want to kiss you. Still want to touch.”

Hinata half-twists around, and Kageyama presses a soft, adoring kiss to the side of his mouth, quick and sharp.

But it makes Hinata turn around fully, and now he’s spread out on the bed, all his limbs stretched, and Kageyama thinks – _his smell will be all over the sheets. I’ll sleep with Hinata’s smell tonight._

And then Hinata is looking up at him, wide brown eyes all softened in the glow of the bedroom, and Kageyama is caught there, trapped.

“You’re so.” Is tumbling out his mouth before he has time to stop it.

Hinata blinks, a surprised little habit. “What?”

“Good.” Kageyama finishes awkwardly, and clears his throat, staring at a point above Hinata’s head.

He expects a snort, a ridicule, some quip about how he barely passes human interaction. But nothing comes, and when Kageyama chances a glance down, he sees Hinata smiling at him, just smiling, his eyes crinkled again, his little face – that little face that Kageyama knows so well, loves so well, that he’s dreamed about, fantasised about, thought about – staring up at Kageyama as if he’s all the stars in the world.

“You’re so beautiful.” This time, the words escape without his control. Kageyama wants to die at his breathy tone, the reverence in his voice.

But Hinata shakes his head, still beaming. “If I’m beautiful, you’re something else.”

Kageyama bows his head, his face flaming, and lets his fringe fall over his forehead and cover his expression. But then Hinata is brushing it back, peering in.

“Want to see you.” He murmurs.

Kageyama lifts his head, but can’t meet Hinata’s eyes. He settles his weight down, pressing his body onto Hinata’s, and his elbows frame either side of Hinata’s head, because he’s _tiny_ , but he stares at Hinata’s ear.

“I can’t want anybody else.” Kageyama says. “Because none of them are you.”

Hinata stills beneath him.

Kageyama feels himself stiffen.

_Jesus Christ, where in the depths of hell did that come from?_

Kageyama is frozen, and he goes to open his mouth, but then Hinata is speaking.

“I miss you every day.” Hinata starts, and Kageyama’s eyes shoot to him. “Because no matter how much I have of you, someone will always have more.”

Kageyama lifts his fingers, strokes the side of Hinata’s face with the trembling pads, and shakes his head. “I’ve only ever wanted the person that flew into my backyard and never left.”

Hinata’s face splits open: one minute it’s bare, eyes wide, the next, his eyes are narrowed slits, all his teeth exposed as he beams. “I’m glad it was your backyard.” He says.

Kageyama nods. “Me too.”

“For what it’s worth.” Hinata says, and a finger strokes along his eyebrow. “I only ever wanted this scowly boy I met when I was eight.”

Kageyama feels as if his whole body is singing, coming alive. “Still?” He finds himself asking.

Hinata frowns, tilts his head. “I never wanted him to change.”

“The scowly seventeen-year-old.” Kageyama finishes.

“I’ll take him any age.” Hinata informs. “As long as he’s scowly.”

Kageyama has to swallow, look away, clench his jaw against a beam. Something that feels suspiciously like a _squeal_ is working its way up his throat and past his lips. It comes out as more of a muffled croak.

“Did you just _squeal?”_ Hinata gasps.

“Did not!” Kageyama shouts, but then – to his absolute horror and mortification – a giggle slips out his mouth.

Hinata is open-mouthed and gaping, his eyes slowly lighting up from within, and Kageyama groans and rolls onto his side, hiding his face.

“Yama-kun, you are the _cutest.”_ Hinata nearly bursts Kageyama’s eardrum.

Kageyama tackles Hinata, and they end up falling off the bed and onto the floor with a thud, but then Kageyama is securing both of Hinata’s wrists in his grip and smirking down at him.

“Got you.” He states.

Hinata blinks up at him owlishly, his face beet-red and still darkening. “Yeah.” He nods, a little breathless note to it, and averts his gaze.

“Hey.” Kageyama frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Hinata clears his throat. “Nothing, just.” He flexes his fingers in Kageyama’s hands, and swallows. “Strong.”

Kageyama gazes down at him, slowly beginning to understand. “Oh.”

Hinata is still looking away, and so Kageyama transfers Hinata’s wrists into one hand and tips his face up with gentle fingers.

Hinata wriggles against the new grip, and groans when he finds he can’t move. “ _Yama_.” He rasps.

Kageyama would smirk is he had any control over his facial muscles. As it is, all the can manage is an open-mouthed stare down at Hinata’s face.

Kageyama has never seen these expressions on Hinata’s face before – these stripped, naked looks. For all the years that he’s been Hinata’s best friend, Hinata has never looked at him with such exposed longing.

Kageyama trails a hand down, along his side, stopping at Hinata’s nipple, his thumb just resting on the outside.

Hinata squirms deliciously against him, his hips rolling up, and Kageyama feels a deep, stirring heat in his belly where Hinata is pressed to him.

“Tobio, please.” Hinata says, playing _dirty_ , playing very dirty. Kageyama growls, suddenly desperate to feel Hinata’s hot, smooth skin, to see the milky pale stretch of it, the constellation of moles, the smattering of soft freckles, the downy hairs.

He’s undoing the buttons with shaking fingers but even then, they’re popping free effortlessly, quickly revealing a flat, toned stomach, and Kageyama shoves it away from his shoulders and up to his armpits to see pert, pink nipples in all their glory.

Kageyama’s mouth waters.

“Tobio.” Hinata repeats, eyes glazed, and Kageyama lowers his head and takes one into his mouth.

If Hinata had reacted before, he _spasms_ now, his whole body jerking like some live wire that’s been electrified.

 _“Yama!”_ He cries, arms thrashing in Kageyama’s grip. “To – _oh_ , _oh,_ Tobio.” He gasps as Kageyama circles his tongue around the nub, flicks the tip over and over and over. “Ah, I – _ah_ , can’t –”

Kageyama grinds down on the hardness he feels at his crotch, and his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when white-hot pleasure shoots from the point of contact all the way up his body, showering down on every nerve ending.

“AH – Tobio, let me touch, I want –” Hinata grows desperate, his arms renewing their efforts, and Kageyama lets Hinata go only for hands to fly to his backside, fingers gripping into him tight and rocking Kageyama’s hips into Hinata.

Kageyama makes some kind of noise, a sound that can’t be described in words.

“ _Shō-oh-yō_.” He drags out the name, a broken groan. Hinata gasps, shaking all over, until hands are scrambling for his waistband and shoving it down, sliding under his boxers and feeling the bare skin.

Kageyama is quivering, overwrought, already close from just _this,_ but Hinata’s hands on his bare ass, squeezing the flesh and spreading apart his cheeks, has him biting down on Hinata’s nipple and rutting up hard and fast.

Hinata throws his head back, yanking at his hips as he grinds up against Kageyama, and then he’s falling very still, mouth open and silent as his eyes flutter closed, red lips parting and features utterly smoothing out, no noise escaping him.

Kageyama follows directly afterwards, and not from the sensations raining down upon his whole body, not from Hinata’s hands on him or their groins crushed together, but from that expression – from Hinata’s blissful, blissed-out expression.

Hinata’s mouth is still hanging open, utterly euphoric, and Kageyama rises up and watches as he comes back to earth – awareness lighting his eyes, snapping his gaze back to Kageyama.

Kageyama knows his face is just the same: mouth swollen and shining with spit, cheeks red-hot, hair a mess.

“Wow.” Hinata breathes.

Kageyama nods. He feels something bubbling in his chest, and tries to squash it down, but then Hinata’s face is breaking into a beam and Kageyama laughs – a short burst, more of a breath than anything.

But Hinata is laughing, features all crinkling up at Kageyama. “That wasn’t – even a minute –”

Kageyama laughs harder, and Hinata’s hands are still palming his backside, so Kageyama presses his face into Hinata’s bare chest, nuzzling the skin, feeling the heat against his forehead.

 

*

Afterwards, Hinata has to leave and go home before his parents start to worry, but it’s much later afterwards - it’s after they’re lying under the sheets, helplessly laughing as they trail fingers along one another’s bare sides and find ticklish areas.

Hinata, as it turns out, is _incredibly_ ticklish: the backs of his knees, his thighs, the bottom of his calves. Even in-between his shoulders and along his ribs, and _definitely_ under his arms. If Kageyama holds him down and licks into his armpit, he’ll wail and thrash as if he’s being tortured.

His sweat tastes different to what Kageyama thought – it’s thicker, pungent. But it’s addictive, and Kageyama seeks it out everywhere.

Hinata’s throat is not ticklish, neither is his jaw, his chest, and definitely not anywhere in-between his legs.

That night, as Kageyama is lying by himself, he turns his face into the side Hinata was lying and finds his smell there.

Kageyama smiles, rolls into it, curls up and hugs the pillow tight to his chest.

His phone lights up, because he had been waiting for a text and had it lying on the bed. Kageyama jumps up in an instant.

From: Hinata

_hey don’t know if ur asleep but I love you_

Kageyama is grinning before he even thinks to stop it.

_of course not_

_dumbass_

From: Hinata

_k, good : D_

_I forgot to say I like ur eyes_

Kageyama presses the pillow to his stretched face. It’s starting to hurt. He’s not used to exercising his facial muscles this much.

To: Hinata

_urs are better_

_Idiot_

From: Hinata

_are not_

_I’ve never seen eyes like urs_

_plus you know what else I like_

Kageyama’s heart is beating, stupidly, from a couple words on screen.

To: Hinata

_what??_

From: Hinata

_ur butt_

Kageyama huffs, rolling his eyes.

To: Hinata

_get to sleep_

_love u_

He switches his phone off immediately after that, too embarrassed to even consider looking at Hinata’s reply, but it pops up anyway as soon as he wakes in the morning.

_!!!_

_I should have said I liked ur butt sooner if it got that!_

Kageyama is laughing, reading the messages as they load, and then,

_Love you too : DD_

*

Oikawa is standing with his arms crossed, jaw tight and tense.

Kageyama sighs, closing his locker door. “I won’t do it if you don’t want.” He says.

Oikawa flicks the hair away from his face with a head tilt. “Iwaizumi said if I was in love with someone, I wouldn’t want them to find out in that way. I told him I would. This is simply to prove it.”

Kageyama blinks. “But … you _do_ love him?” He asks, frowning.

Oikawa doesn’t reply, simply tips his nose into the air. “Well either way, a public announcement might finally stop the love letters I myself get.”

“Cut the crap.” Kageyama says, already drained with trying to talk to Oikawa and only getting backward answers. “Do you actually love him or is this some way to prove a point?”

Oikawa swallows, and then he looks at Kageyama. “What do you think of it?” He asks.

Kageyama blinks again. “What?”

“The letter.” Oikawa growls. “What do you think? Is it too blunt?”

Oikawa Tōru is asking Kageyama for advice. Advice for his love life.

Hinata Shōyō is in love with him. Kageyama is dating his best friend.

The world is backwards.

“I think it’s obvious you’re trying to be flippant.” Kageyama states. “Just write what you feel.”

“Yes, but it’s going to get _read out_.” Oikawa hisses, and glances sharply to the side.

“Not if you don’t want.” Kageyama replies.

 _“But I said it would!”_ Oikawa shouts, and stomps. It reminds him very eerily of someone similar.

“Well, then change it.” Kageyama tries.

“But it’s _fine_ the way it is.” Oikawa whines.

“Well when _why did you ask?”_ Kageyama hisses, quickly getting pulled into Oikawa’s childish tantrum.

Oikawa grits his teeth. “Just read it out.” He states, and then he whirls around and stalks off.

Kageyama watches him go, and instantly, the annoyance leaves him in a rush.

He remembers Iwaizumi’s face, the anger in his voice, _that’s enough_. Iwaizumi hadn’t liked the fact Oikawa read out Kageyama's letter, he hadn’t found it funny. He'd been angry, furious.

Oikawa knows that. He knows it, and now he’s doing the only thing he can think of to make it up to him.

He’s throwing himself out there – not to prove a point, or to stop his hoard of followers. He’s doing it so he might get his best friend back. He’s admitting his feelings, feelings Kageyama doesn't know how long have been kept hidden, for a chance at saving their friendship.

Kageyama finds Iwaizumi at his locker. He waits until the person talking with him goes, and then barges up.

“You finally make an appearance –” Iwaizumi starts from behind his locker door, and closes it with a grin on his face, that slips as soon as he takes one look at Kageyama.

Kageyama scowls. He brings out Oikawa’s letter, and clears his throat.

 _“Iwaizumi, I'm writing this letter because I'm in love with you, and it's hindering my ability to focus.”_ He states.

“What the fuck.” Iwaizumi rears his head back.

Kageyama clenches his jaw, spares him a look, before continuing.

 _“I simply can't afford to lose concentration on the court, so if you would be kind enough to keep this in mind, I would be grateful.”_ He says, no inflection in his tone. “ _Otherwise, I will sabotage every single one of your gym shorts and make you buy more appropriate practise gear. I don't think it needs to be said we will remain friends. If it does, then I'm disappointed in you, Iwa-chan.”_

Something in Iwaizumi’s face changes. His body goes still, but his face smoothes out like water.

 _“If you feel the same, please let me know. If you do not, give me three to four days.”_ He clears his throat again.

“ _Yes, I'm yours, Tōru.”_ Kageyama finishes.

Iwaizumi is frozen. Then he’s snatching the letter from Kageyama’s hands, his eyes scanning the words. He turns it over, movements quick and jerky, and then back around. He reads it again, and again, and again, while Kageyama only stands and watches.

“Is this a joke.” Iwaizumi steps forward and asks very seriously, his voice dark, holding the letter clutched in one hand up to Kageyama’s face.

Clearly not the reaction Oikawa had been hoping for.

Kageyama feels himself grimace. “Unfortunately not. He’s serious.”

“And you’re _sure?”_ Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows, shaking the paper.

Kageyama blinks, frowning. “He – _yes_. Did you not read it?”

Iwaizumi stares at him for a long moment. And then his eyes are moving to the side, and Kageyama looks over.

Oikawa is grinning down at two first-years, nodding, but there’s something tense in the way he’s holding himself.

Iwaizumi crumples the letter in his tight grip as he storms up, before scrunching the paper into a neat little ball and throwing it at Oikawa’s head.

Oikawa whips around, a hand flying up to his head, before his eyes catch onto Iwaizumi, and then the letter on the ground.

“Trashykawa.” Iwaizumi starts, crossing his arms.

Oikawa reaches down, slowly, fingers thumbing at the crumpled edges of paper as he straightens up. “I.” He starts, and his voice is strained as he smoothes out his crushed letter. “I – this is a little harsh, even for your standards, Iwa-chan.” His smile is wobbly. “I asked for some time –”

“You’re an asshole, and a complete imbecile, and you wouldn’t last two minutes without me.” Iwaizumi states.

Oikawa swallows, glancing at the people gathering around. “I know.” He states, very softly. “I – can we do this somewhere else?” He asks, eyes wide and shining. “Please?”

Kageyama feels that if he waits, he might just see Oikawa Tōru cry.

“I love you too.” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa freezes.

Iwaizumi shifts the weight on his feet, and looks at Oikawa. “So?” He asks. “What are you gonna do about it?”

The water that had been standing in Oikawa’s eyes spills over, in one single teardrop. “But – you crushed the letter.” He tries weakly, at a loss.

“Because it’s a shitty letter.” Iwaizumi says, but then he’s smiling, a soft private smile Kageyama has never seen. “You can write me a new one.”

Oikawa laughs, a breathless exhale, and then he drops the letter and takes a step, then another, before he’s running at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi catches him effortlessly, all six feet of gangly teenager, and spins him around.

There’s cheering.

It’s sudden and unexpected, but abruptly, it’s as if half the canteen is then hooting and shouting as Iwaizumi tips Oikawa’s face upwards for a kiss. noise erupting around the school.

Kageyama is watching, standing back, until he sees a familiar shock of orange hair, and his heart does a double-flip like a fish out of water inside his chest.

Hinata looks up, catches his gaze, and then he’s beaming wide and bright, and Kageyama nods him over.

“Look what I did.” Kageyama tips his head toward the scene in front of him, and Hinata turns to Oikawa and Iwaizumi still kissing.

Hinata grins, but then he’s frowning as he registers everyone clapping.

“Hey!” He starts, whipping around to Kageyama. “They got a bigger applause than us!”

Kageyama looks down at him, at his scrunched-up, indignant face, and bends in one swoop to press a kiss to his mouth.

The cheering abruptly increases, cat-calls and whistles ringing out the whole cafeteria, and Kageyama feels Hinata smile against his lips.

 

*

It’s a long time after that that Kageyama shows Hinata his letter.

It’s not as if it matters, because Hinata already knows the words inside anyways, it’s already been read out to him, and it’s not long before Hinata starts to forget about it – life and other things getting in the way.

But Kageyama doesn’t forget.

He doesn’t forget, and waits for the perfect moment to give him it: waits for some romantic opportunity, because Hinata has already handed his over for Kageyama’s birthday, neatly folded in with his card and an impish smile, but the moment never seems to arise.

It starts to burn a hole in his pocket the same way it did before, and Kageyama thinks – _this is ridiculous_ , as he bends to kiss Hinata every morning, and _just hand it over_ , as he’s waving goodbye at his doorstep.

It’s probably embarrassing to admit it takes a few years.

Kageyama feels ridiculous, holding this bouquet of folders, his hair flattened down and bow-tie resting tight against his throat. He grumbles at every passer-by, standing on the spot as he waits for Hinata.

Who comes rushing around the corner, hair in a disarray, suit jacket opened and flapping in the wind.

“Sorry, sorry.” He gasps, panting to catch his breath.

“You’re late.” Kageyama says, and shoves the flowers at him.

“Yama-kun, I _made_ these reservations –” Hinata starts.

“And I still manage to get here first.” Kageyama states.

“Would you just.” Hinata is patting down his sides, and something like stark fear crosses his face, his eyes going white as they widen. Kageyama pauses, frowning, before it’s suddenly gone, wiped, relief smoothing his features. “Be happy I managed to get us booked here?” He finishes quickly. “You know it’s the fanciest restaurant I could find.”

Kageyama huffs. “I didn’t _need_ fancy, dumbass.” He would ruffle Hinata’s hair, but they’re currently queuing outside somewhere akin to The Ritz, and he also thinks they’re past that age by now.

Hinata’s eyes glint up at him, as if he’s reading Kageyama’s mind and knows Kageyama wants to pat his head, so Kageyama huffs and does it anyway.

It’s only as they’re getting seated that Hinata starts to look nervous again, toying with the collar of his shirt.

“You’ll ruin your tie.” Kageyama reaches forward and straightens it.

Hinata smiles at him, a soft, small thing over the glow of the candlelight between them, and Kageyama feels his face heat.

 _Now or never_ , he thinks.

“Happy anniversary.” Kageyama huffs, and reaches inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the small crumpled piece of paper and sliding it over.

Hinata blinks down at it, picking it up and unfolding it.

He reads quickly, his eyes skimming over the lines that Kageyama knows so well.

He had tried to re-write it, to polish it over and make sense of the scribbled-out parts, but then he found himself adding things, annotating his own words with notes like, _yeah, it was hard to talk to you because you spent all your time with Yachi,_ and _it really was the worst week, you could have said something._

He even drew an arrow pointing to where he talks about April Fools, and wrote _IF YOU EVER DO THIS AGAIN, I’M BREAKING UP WITH YOU._

But it’s okay, because at the end, at the _yours as always,_ _Tobio Kageyama,_ he added in-between, _and still am, and always will be._

Hinata’s eyes are shining, and they rise up to meet his across the table, full of fondness and laughter and love.

Kageyama grumbles, cheeks hot, but he keeps Hinata’s gaze, holds it, giving back all he’s feeling as well.

“Tobio.” Hinata croaks, and Kageyama flushes harder.

“You always know how to outshine me.” He carries on, and Kageyama frowns, until he’s reaching inside his suit and pulling out a small, rectangular velvet box.

Kageyama is frozen, and he – he thinks he knows, but then Hinata is popping open the lid and revealing a plain silver ring.

Kageyama stares.

Hinata laughs, but his voice is croaky. “Say something.”

Kageyama can only blink, his mouth working for a moment, but no sound coming out. “Is that?” He rasps.

Hinata nods. “Yeah.”

Kageyama feels as if his throat has closed up, closed off. “Dumbass.” He manages, voice choked. “Of course.”

Hinata is laughing, but then his eyes are wet, and then he’s crying at the same time, taking Kageyama’s shaking hand and sliding the cool metal onto one finger.

 

*

Hinata ends up getting Kageyama’s letter framed and hanging it up on the wall of their new apartment, alongside his own one.

The frames sit there in the hallway: Hinata’s chicken-scratch barely legible, his cartoons of volleyballs and the detailed drawings of Kageyama as he tosses, Kageyama’s black scribbled lines cutting across the page on the parts he'd erased, arrows pointing to notes beside it.

They hang pictures along with them, photos of their travels and volleyball tournaments, the places they've seen and the people in their life. It grows and grows until it takes up a whole wall, a shrine of their life together.

It probably all looks ridiculous, and guests who visit always nod their head to the framed letters in the middle of the display, point, questions like – _is that some kind of art? Abstract, right?_ And Kageyama and Hinata will glance to one another and share a look.

But they stay there, a constant reminder of their own oblivious idiocy. Kageyama likes to see them sat with one another on the wall, the wooden frames just touching, likes to let his eyes skim over the words and huff at how similar they are, read those words he had written when he was young and full of heartache and know how far they’ve both come.

“And that’s the last of them.” Hinata states grandly. He sets the box of his stuff down, standing back with hands on his hips proudly, two little fists at each side. "Well, that only took a year."

He’s wearing a baseball cap in the spring heat, red tuffs of hair escaping around the edges, with some stupid, old worn volleyball t-shirt displaying a bright slogan. He looks so – so _cute_ then, so small and energetic, and Kageyama finds himself walking up, reaching out for him.

“What’s this?” Hinata asks, but his own hands come to rest on Kageyama’s biceps as Kageyama wraps his arms around him.

Kageyama shrugs. “Nothing.”

Hinata grins up at him. “Guess what day it is?” He asks.

Kageyama raises an eyebrow. “The first of April.” He states.

“The first of many.” Hinata declares.

Then he rises to his toes and cracks an egg on Kageyama’s head.

_end_

**Author's Note:**

> If you have gotten this far, thank you endlessly <33
> 
> I'm also Peasantaries on [Tumblr](https://peasantaries.tumblr.com/), [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/peasantaries), and [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/peasantaries/)! Come over and talk to me! I'll never bite <33
> 
> If you want to find ways to support me too, you can find them there! (*^▽^*)( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉﾟ


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